


I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You

by chatalyst



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Christmas AU, Confession, F/M, Fluff, ML Secret Santa, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Requited Love, We getting requited love up in this beetch, but in my defense I was left unsupervised and stressed for many many months, confession of love, i know I’m late I’m sorry, merry Christmas Mama is late but she brought hot chocolate, pre-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22175089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chatalyst/pseuds/chatalyst
Summary: After weeks of being away, Chat Noir is dying to share a hot chocolate with Marinette. Christmas is so close, but spending time with his distant father is the last thing he wants to do. He has the courage to escape.Now he just needs to work up the courage to confess.(Or: my version of a balcony scene)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 28
Kudos: 294





	I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightkeykid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightkeykid/gifts).



Adrien was not having a good night.

  
  


Two years ago, Gabriel had promised that they would spend more Christmases together as a family, shaken to the core by Adrien running away on Christmas Eve. As fate would have it, two years is all it takes for Gabriel to return to his original philosophy of ignoring his around the winter months. 

  
  


“Your father is very busy,” Nathalie had said, her face as passive as ever. “He wanted you to have this.”

  
  


Adrien doubts Nathalie even noticed that her initials were engraved on the “present from his father”. At least last year she had enough time to go out and buy him something new, not knowing that Chat Noir was watching her from the roof across the street. It had been two days before Christmas Eve, and she had left the department store moments later with a pre-packaged present. He’d acted surprised when he recognized the present his father handed to him, not wanting to rock the boat.

  
  


A lot of good that did him now.

  
  


_ But this year will be different _ , he thinks, shaking the memory away. This year would not be like last year, or even the year before. This time, when he escapes, he knows where to go (and takes extra care to avoid anyone who resembles Jolly Old Saint Nick).

  
  


Nino had been out of town for a week, Alya was with her family, and Chloe was with Sabrina in Germany, exhausted by her parent’s antics. Since Miracle Queen, Audrey and Andre Bourgeois had become insufferably adorable, using relationship therapy to find healthy ways to communicate and work through their toxic coping mechanisms with each other. 

  
  


It was Chloe's worst nightmare.

  
  


But even if all of those friends had been in town, he still would have chosen the friend he was heading to now, leaping and bounding over rooftops to get there quicker. 

  
  


He couldn’t deny that things had… shifted in recent months. Joking nudges around the rooftop and silly banter during video game tournaments had slowly morphed into lingering looks and long, in-depth discussions under the moonlight.

  
  


It had been during one particular discussion that something had clicked in his mind that he’d been avoiding for weeks. A tiny snowflake had gently landed on the tip of her nose as she was telling him about her newest project, and without thinking twice he had reached for her, trying to wipe it away before it melted.

  
  


She had turned, eyes wide, and his fingertips had grazed her cheek instead. He’d almost pulled away when her hand shot up, cupping the back of his, and pressed their foreheads together. 

  
  


Her long eyelashes fanned across her cheeks as she closed her eyes, but his were wide, watching her every move as his heart beat erratically in his chest.

  
  


“If you’re trying to distract me so I won’t talk about cross-stitch patterns,” she whispered, lips so close to his own. “I’ll have you know that it won’t work.”

  
  


“You had a snowflake on your nose.” He breathed, regretting his choice of words when her eyes slowly blinked open, meeting his. 

  
  


Were they always so  _ blue _ ? Surely he would have remembered that.

  
  


But then she smirked, playful as ever. She hummed, sarcastic -  _ teasing _ him - and it had hit him with the force of a thousand Stonehearts.

  
  


He was in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

  
  


And he had been too afraid to tell her right then and there.

  
  


_ Tonight will be different _ he had said, and he was sticking to that. He was going to confess his feelings if it killed him. Tonight.

  
  


The Dupain-Cheng bakery was just as he remembered. Lights strung up on the front of the building, two small Christmas trees full of bakery-themed ornaments on either side of the entrance door. Marinette’s balcony was decorated too, a garland full of lights twisting around the iron and dotted along the roof, poinsettias offering a pop of color along the railing. 

  
  


He couldn’t be Adrien in front of her parents, but standing on her balcony with the smells of the bakery below, and the way they would offer him something to eat or drink every thirty minutes or so, asking if he was sure he was warm enough? It made him happy to know they would have treated him the same no matter who he was.

  
  


The memory warmed his heart as he landed, careful to launch himself over her decorations, and that damned potted plant she kept on the ledge. He could still remember the way her eyes had widened when he had broken a pot full of succulents she had been working on for days earlier that year. Backflips onto her balcony were strictly prohibited from there on out.

  
  


Even if the trick, she admitted, had been  _ super freaking sick _ .

  
  


At first glance, it didn’t appear like she was home. The lights were off in her room, and the terrace had a thin layer of snow as though it had been undisturbed for some time. The only giveaway to the contrary was that he saw the lights of the small Christmas tree in the corner of her room were on through the skylight. She was always so careful to unplug the tree before she left, which meant she was probably just asleep.

  
  


_ It’s better than nothing _ , he thought, raising his hand to knock their secret knock on the window pane.

  
  


_ Tap tap tap taptaptap _ .

  
  


After a moment, a groan sounded from within, confirming his theory. He stood back as the sound of footsteps approached and the door swung toward him, but he was wholly unprepared to have Marinette, still adorably groggy from sleep, squinting up at him.

  
  


“Chat?” She asked, brows furrowing in concern. “You’re… Is everything okay?”

  
  


“Hi.” He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hot chocolate tonight?”

  
  


Marinette's face dropped. “Oh my god.” She said, stepping back down the ladder. “Oh my god, I fell asleep! One second!”

  
  


He caught the door before it could slam shut. “We can reschedule if you-“

  
  


“Absolutely not.” Marinette said, turning on him with a glare. “You were gone for weeks and we are drinking hot chocolate on this balcony and you’re going to ignore my messy room because I passed out instead of cleaning, okay?”

  
  


Chat Noir didn’t have a moment to answer before she was tugging him by his wrist into her room. 

  
  


True to her word, her room was a little messy. Bolts of multicolored fabric and scraps of paper scattered across her floor. Crumpled sketches were overflowing from her wastebin. Clothes were strewn haphazardly over the floor and furniture, as though she had barely a moment to slip into pajamas before hitting her mattress and falling asleep.

  
  


His heart ached. He  _ loved _ rooms that were visibly lived-in, was so completely jealous of kids who were allowed to be creative in their own living space. Back at home, his room was in constant posed perfection (save for the few times Plagg couldn’t find whatever stinky object he was attached to that week). He wasn’t allowed to let bits and pieces of himself out… but here? 

  
  


Marinette was everywhere, in the scribbled body forms on the pages still visible on her drawing desk, her signature black cardigan strewn over her chaise, the passion fruit body spray on her sink.

  
  


She was everywhere, and he couldn't get enough.

  
  


“I just need to run downstairs to prepare the hot chocolate.” Marinette said, coming from the bathroom while wiping the black from under her eyes with a makeup wipe. “My parents are asleep, so try not to make too much noise.”

  
  


“I could help you?” Chat offered, handing her her favorite robe as she picked up the belt from the floor.

  
  


“No, it’s better if you stay. Remember the last time we tried and we both forgot you literally wear a bell around your neck?”

  
  


Chat laughed, flicking said bell and sitting back against the chaise. “It’s detachable, you know.”

  
  


“It’s also a look.” Marinette said, smirking. “Water or milk?”

  
  


“You already know the answer.”

  
  


“I don’t know why I still ask like it’s going to change.” Marinette laughed, walking out her bedroom door with two mugs in her hand. 

  
  


It had become a tradition of theirs to drink hot chocolate and discuss their weeks spent apart. Marinette didn’t know why he disappeared for so long, but since Hawkmoth had calmed down considerably in the past year, he’d been able to take jobs that were father and farther away from Paris. She didn’t seem to notice that it lined up with Adrien’s schedule, but even if she did ask him, he was sure he could think of something to cover his tracks.

  
  


That was the really nice thing about Marinette - she respected his privacy as a superhero, and understood that getting close meant being creative with what he could and could not say about himself. The closest thing that he’d revealed was that his father never gave him presents for holidays, always content to slap his name on whatever gift someone else had brought.

  
  


He couldn’t wait to tell her the utter bullshit that’d been pulled not even an hour earlier. 

  
  


As he glanced about the room, he noticed wrapped presents under her little Christmas Tree. He had always thought that they were just decoration, but after a moment he walked closer, saw the little gift tags with names in her signature, loopy lettering.

  
  


_ Alya.  _ A medium-sized circular hat box with a bow.

  
  


_ Nino.  _ A large, square box with green wrapping, just under Alya’s.

  
  


_ Adrien. _

  
  


He paused, staring at the small rectangular box that was placed on top of a lumpy, misshapen present. He knew it was technically cheating to see a gift before Christmas, but if he thought about it logically, he knew it would be _at_ _least_ until they got back to school that he would get to see what was inside.

  
  


Plans started forming in his mind. He could call for cataclysm and pretend he had fallen down… but it was such a flimsy excuse. Plus, he risked destroying whatever the paper was touching. He had gotten quite skilled at controlling his cataclysm, but he wasn’t sure he was  _ that _ skilled.

  
  


He could tear where the tape was, peak inside, and hope that he would be able to tell what it was from the small opening. Taping it back would be almost too easy… and it was probably the most foolproof. 

  
  


The thought had him reaching forward, his fingers closing around the gift.

  
  


It was like that self-sabotaging thought that wouldn’t leave you alone, even though you knew you would never follow through with it. Before he had lifted the present he had known he wasn’t going to do either of those things; he would never ruin her surprise like that. 

  
  


But, if he hadn’t picked up the box in his curiosity, he might not have accidentally flipped the tag of the present beneath it. He wouldn’t have seen the name scribbled, as though she had done it quickly, no time to do her usual calligraphy. 

  
  


He gently placed the present for his civilian self on Alya’s hat box, his heart stuttering. 

  
  


_ Chaton. _

  
  


“Okay, so I know you said you don’t like a lot of cinnamon but I accidentally knocked half of the spoon of cinnamon into your drink because my neighbor’s cat is insane and was running through my flower garden outside,  _ but _ if you absolutely hate it I brought the whipped… Chat?”

  
  


He saw the drinks first. The whipped cream on one of the pink mugs was noticeably orange brown and dented where most of the cinnamon laid. Steam curled from the cups, and he noticed how Marinette held the handles so that her fingers didn’t touch the body of the mug. His eyes met hers, saw the concern in her eyes.

  
  


And he…

  
  


“You got me a present?” He whispered. Marinette’s brows knitted further in confusion. Then she glanced behind him and froze.

  
  


“It was… it was supposed to be a surprise.” She said softly, her grip tightening on the cup. “I just didn’t know when you were getting back.”

  
  


He was speechless.

  
  


“If I would’ve known you’d go snooping, I would’ve hidden it better.” She said, smiling. She placed the mugs on her desk and crossed the small space to his side, grabbing the misshapen package and holding it out to him. “You can open it now, if you’d like. It might take some explaining, though.”

  
  


He gently took the package from her. It was soft, molding to his hand. The wrapping was the same bright green of his scleras, a detail that didn’t go unnoticed by either party. “But… why?”

  
  


The question seemed to take her by surprise. “Why?”

  
  


“I mean,” Chat shook his head. “Usually me and Ladybug get something for each other, but unless it’s a ‘Merry Christmas’ on Twitter, I’ve never received a present from anyone else. As Chat Noir, I mean.”

  
  


Marinette shrugged. “I mean, I consider us friends now. Friends get each other gifts.” Her smile turned knowing. “And something tells me you didn’t tell Ladybug you were home before coming here.”

  
  


“How do you figure that? Maybe I hung out with her yesterday.”

  
  


“You couldn’t have.” Marinette brushed her hands through the air in front of his face. “You have this… look whenever you’ve spent too much time with your father. One of my other friends gets it, too.” She winked at him. “And you don’t have that look when you’ve hung out with Ladybug.”

  
  


His cheeks burned. He wondered if she knew Ladybug wasn’t the sole person he yearned for anymore; he wondered if he’d get the chance to tell her if she wasn’t already aware.

  
  


“I wasn’t aware you were paying such close attention to my looks, princess.” He said, knocking his hip against hers.

  
  


“Well,” she knocked his hip back. “I make it a point to notice if my friends’ parents kinda suck. Don’t let it go to your head.”

  
  


“Too late; it’s already gone to my head and I will be riding this high for days.” Chat Noir smiled, clutching the package to his chest. “But really, thank you.”

  
  


Marinette slid her hand into his and tugged him toward the roof door. “You haven’t even seen what it is, yet.”

  
  


“Do I need to? Everything you make is amazing.” The rungs of the ladder were cold under his gloves as he climbed up, and the winter air even more so once he opened the skylight. He held out his hand to help Marinette up.

  
  


“Oh, you should really stop inflating my ego,” Marinette admonished, fingers closing around his. “Who knows what I would do?”

  
  


“The world wouldn’t be ready; you’d be the unstoppable Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” He cried, throwing himself dramatically into the chaise lounge chair on her roof, the hand not currently holding Marinette’s tossed over his brow. The paper of his present crinkled loudly in his ear. “Not even I could withstand the storm you would bring in your awesomeness. Hawkmoth is already trembling in his six-inch knock-off Louboutins.”

  
  


“Oh, stop.” She laughed, tugging him up. “They are not six inches.”

  
  


“And how would you know that?” He said, pulling her closer until her shins hit the chair between his legs. “I’ve actually seen him before, you know. They were six inches at  _ least _ .”

  
  


She smirked, her eyes bright. “Maybe Hawkmoth is just tall? Ever think of that?”

  
  


“Maybe I don’t want to talk about Knock-offmoth anymore.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe I want to open my present.”

  
  


“By all means.” She flipped her braids over her shoulder as she sat down across from him. She suddenly felt self-conscious. “But like I said… I mean… i-if you don’t-”

  
  


“I won’t.” He said, lifting her hand to press a kiss along her knuckles. Marinette’s cheeks flared with heat as he let her go, claws catching on the tape holding the wrapping together. “I know I’ll love whatever this is.”

  
  


A thousand protests sounded in her mind, but she stamped them down. This was Chat, and though he joked a lot, there was sincerity behind his words a hundred times over. She wasn’t self-conscious in her ability to make a good present, not by a long shot. But there was always something so nerve-wracking about releasing something you’ve made into the world.

  
  


But she never should have doubted him for a moment, for as soon as he saw the present inside, his eyes went wide.

  
  


“This…” He whispered, fingers trailing over black fabric. “Oh my god, Marinette.”

  
  


“Do you like it? I know you can’t wear it out, but you mentioned your room being cold sometimes... so I thought, you know...” She trailed off as he lifted the black sweater gingerly from the wrapping, and the hours she had spent painstakingly sewing, customizing, and perfecting it flew from her mind. The trouble was worth it to see the way his eyes shone in the moonlight, the way he shook his head in disbelief.

  
  


And for his part, Chat felt like he was drowning. 

  
  


The sweater was beautiful. Soft to the touch, it was a deep black that matched the color of his suit. There were cut outs for his thumbs on the ends of the sleeves, creating little gloves for his constantly cold hands. Along the left arm she had stitched  _ Cataclysm _ vertically in silver, boxy letters. Along the neck, he could see she had sewn a line of tiny, green eyes. 

  
  


_ His _ eyes as Chat Noir.

  
  


And at its center? 

  
  


The huge patch that must’ve taken days to create. She had cross-stitched a likeness perfectly, the antennae and dilated pupils giving away who he was looking at almost immediately. The small, purple mouth was open on the creature, revealing two tiny fangs.

  
  


“Is that… Plagg?”

  
  


She grinned, even though her palms were sweaty as hell. “Yup! I hope I got the likeness correct.” She moved closer, trying to act as naive as possible. “You can thank Mme. Mendeleiv for the reference pics. Did you know they still have conspiracy blogs up for that?”

  
  


She waited for him to laugh, but something else had caught his attention.

  
  


“You made a small one for Plagg!” He exlaimed, placing his sweatshirt to the left and lifting the tiny sweatshirt from the wrapping. It was almost identical to his in color and shape, save for the  _ Tiny Cheese God _ that had been stitched across the front in tiny, bold letters.“Oh, he’s going to love this. If you weren’t his favorite already, you definitely are now.”

  
  


“You think he’ll like it?” She asked.

  
  


“Like it? He’ll love it!” Chat exclaimed, eyes full of an emotion Marinette couldn’t place. “I… this is amazing. Thank you.”

  
  


Her cheeks flushed from the praise. “I’m glad you like it.”

  
  


“I do. You have no idea how much this-“ he turned, cutting off when he noticed how close they were sitting. He flushed, but noticed that she didn’t pull away like he expected her to. Instead, she glanced down to his lips.

  
  


“Tell me.” She said, smirking. “I like when you praise me a lot.”

  
  


“I- I... you… um,” he stuttered. 

  
  


He was way out of his element. This was SO not his element. He was a completely different element and he was in over his head. 

  
  


And she, in contrast, was tired.

  
  


The nights he didn’t come were the hardest. He tried to let her know ahead of time if he couldn’t be there, but it wasn’t always possible. There were sometimes weeks on end when he would go radio silent, during which she was grateful for the title of Guardian. Who knows what she would’ve done by now if she hadn’t had the ability to call on other superheroes if need be?

  
  


But it just wasn’t the same.

  
  


She liked having him here, by her side. In a fight, of course, but it was more than that.

  
  


She wanted the quiet nights back. When fighting beside Rena Rouge, it wasn’t the way he covered her back when the akuma swung toward her that she missed. When Carapace threw a shield up to protect them from the onslaught of arrows, magic, or toothbrushes (in one strange case), it wasn’t Chat Noir’s tendency to throw himself in front of her that she missed.

  
  


It was his witty banter, his gentle voice, his calming presence. It was the way he’d offer her advice when she was Marinette, give her pep talks when she was Ladybug, was always prepared to protect perfect strangers and friends alike. 

  
  


And as she missed him, the thoughts dug deeper and deeper. Was he okay? Was he sleeping enough? Was he happy today?

  
  


Did he think about her as much as she did him?

  
  


And whenever he’d come back, that gnawing  _ something _ in the pit of her stomach would claw against her, begging to be released. She knew what it was, had felt it before.

  
  


With Adrien.

  
  


But she had ignored it - the way it festered and grew - until he had consumed her every waking thought. It was reflexive to think about him, to wonder about him, to think  _ in reference to _ him.

  
  


And by the time she realized it wasn’t a sickness, wasn’t something to be feared, was something she needed to confess and tell him immediately?

  
  


Radio silence.

  
  


She swallowed, lifting her hands to trace her fingertips over the back of his glove. “You were gone for weeks.” She said, voice weak.

  
  


His eyes darted to their hands. He was silent as he gently turned his hand over, meeting her fingertips with his. Electricity raced up his arm as he spoke again. “I know.”

  
  


“I missed you.”

  
  


She had expected a number of retorts, so used to him lightening the mood. What she didn’t expect was for him to lean closer, his gaze softening as he closed his fingers around hers. “I missed you, too.” 

  
  


There was a question in his eyes, and she knew she had much of the same in her own. He was giving her this, trusting her to make the move.

  
  


She needed to answer. 

  
  


She leaned closer, eyes half-lidded. His hand not currently entwined with hers tentatively reached up to cup her cheek.

  
  


His voice was so soft, his touch so gentle that she felt like crying. “You don’t have t-“ He began.

  
  


“I want to.” She said, leaning in. Her heart was pounding, and she was so grateful for the fact that there was the barrier of his glove between their hands. Lord knows her palms were sweaty.

  
  


But she was tired of running.

  
  


She just closed her eyes, trusting him as she had always done. His mouth was right there, her heart was racing. 

  
  


A scream ripped through the air. 

  
  


They froze, millimeters apart as the voice went silent.

  
  


Chat’s ear twitched in the direction of the sound.

  
  


“What was-“

  
  


The akuma alarm blared in the distance as an answer.

  
  


Chat cursed, rising to his feet and checking his communicator. Sure enough, three more alarms had been triggered at different points in the city. When he and Ladybug had implemented the system, it had seemed brilliant. An akuma alert system that automatically connected to their communicators has proven useful many times over the years, but right then it was more of a nuisance than anything.

  
  


“I’m really sorry.” Chat sighed, putting his communicator away and turning back to Marinette. She had already risen, glancing at the horizon with a worried look in her eyes.

  
  


“It’s okay.” She said, nervously tugging on her braid. “You should… probably go, then?”

  
  


Desperation clouded his judgement. He wished he could convey how much he didn’t want to in that moment, but he was already late. He could only hope that Ladybug was already on the scene. 

  
  


“I need to tell you,” he said, suddenly courageous. “I have to tell you something, because I don’t know if I’ll be able to-“ 

  
  


He trailed off as her finger came up and pressed against his lips, silencing him.

  
  


“We’ll have time.” She murmured. “You should go.”

  
  


“But I-“

  
  


Marinette stepped closer, a fire in her eyes that reminded him so much of Ladybug. 

  
  


“I don’t want my confession to be rushed, Chat Noir.” She declared, like it didn’t stop his heart to hear her say so. “Will you let me have this?”

  
  


“But…” He glanced behind her, hoping to find anything to make him stay. “The present-“

  
  


“Will still be here when you get back.” She said, pressing a hand to his chest. He felt the railing against his back before he registered what it was.

  
  


“But it’s so late,” Chat clammored on, “so I really don’t know if I’ll be able to make it back tonight.”

  
  


Marinette rolled her eyes. “You could always come visit me tomorrow.”

  
  


“But you should know that I-”

  
  


Marinette tugged him down by his bell, and finally,  _ finally  _ pressed their lips together. Shock sent a tremor throughout his entire body, rooting him to the spot. It took him half a second to register what was happening, what she had just done, but then the moment passed.

  
  


And he felt himself melting.

  
  


His looped one arm around her back, pulling her flush against him. Her fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer as her lips moved against his, coaxing the anxiety and sadness he had felt, until everything bad that had happened in the past month just melted away.

  
  


_ She is everything _ , he thought, cupping the side of her face a tracing her cheek lightly with his thumb. He would live and die by her side. He would sing her praises for the rest of his life. And if he lost everything tomorrow, if he died tonight even, he would be grateful for this moment with her.

  
  


Marinette, in contrast, felt like she was flying.

  
  


He was gentle, caring, and kind. The kiss was everything she had ever thought it could be and more. Her thoughts were constantly in a million places at once, always moving, always creating, but this moment was just him. 

  
  


Just  _ Chat _ . 

  
  


Her fingers delved deeper into his golden mop of hair, and it was all she could do to hope that the message was getting across.

  
  


Little did she know that he was wishing much of the same.

  
  


_ I love you.  _

  
  


_ I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life, and I trust you with everything in me. _

  
  


Eventually, the kiss had to end. No desperate prolonging of the moment could distract from the inevitable truth that was the screams of terror in the distance. By the third beep of Chat Noir’s communicator, Marinette was mentally battling herself. It was irresponsible to not let him go. It was irresponsible for her to not make him go so she could join him as Ladybug.

  
  


And when he pulled away as the fourth beep sounded, it was irresponsible for her to pull him back down to kiss her one last time. 

  
  


She opened her eyes to see his dazed expression, knowing she probably didn’t look much better.

  
  


“I-I’ll be right back.” He said, lifting the back of her knuckles to his lips. “Stay right here.”

  
  


“So that’s it then? You’re going to leave me all alone?” She asked, feigning incredulity.

  
  


“You can handle it.” He said, his eyes bright. “And I expect you in one piece when I get back.”

  
  


Marinette sniffed. “I don’t know if it’s worth waiting around, honestly.” She crossed her arms. “You didn’t confess. As far as I know, this relationship is entirely one-sided right now.”

  
  


“Then allow me to make it up to you.” Chat unclipped his staff, extending it to the ground below. He leaned forward to press a kiss against her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Marinette.”

  
  


She smiled, feeling warm all over. 

  
  


“Merry Christmas, Chat Noir.”

  
  


Marinette watched him vault over rooftops and buildings with ease, her heart unbearably full, until he completely disappeared into the night.

  
  


Logically, she knew she should have transformed as soon as he was out of sight, following him to the scary-sounding akuma. But she wanted this moment to just be Marinette, to pretend that she really was just a regular civilian, patiently waiting for Chat Noir to come back to share a hot chocolate with her on her balcony.

  
  


_ Speaking of which, the hot chocolate had probably gone cold by n- _

  
  


“Well, that was interesting.” Tikki chirped.

  
  


Marinette screamed, spinning around. 

  
  


“How long have you been there?!” She hissed, clutching her chest.

  
  


“Long enough,” Tikki said. She had her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed, smile sly. But the teasing look was greatly downplayed by the noticeable streak of white on her upper lip.

  
  


“Did you… Did you  _ drink  _ our hot chocolates?” Marinette asked.

  
  


Tikki blinked, then spun around. “That is not important right now!” She said, swiping at her lips before turning back around and shoving a finger in Marinette’s direction. “You finally confessed!”

  
  


Marinette couldn’t hide the blush that overtook her entire face, but for once she had no desire to hide… anything. She was…

  
  


“Oh, Tikki,” She sighed, grin so wide it hurt. “I’m so  _ happy _ .”

  
  


Tikki squealed, flying toward Marinette’s face and spinning in a circle. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this. Usually it’s Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s getting together first, or their regular selves, but it’s so rare for this kind of pairing to happen!” She giggled, turning upside down. “You two really are special, huh?”

  
  


“I don’t know about all that.” Marinette laughed, cupping her hands so Tikki could land in them. “I just know that this is shaping up to be the best Christmas ever.”

  
  


“Don’t speak so soon, you have an entire akuma to defeat, remember?” Tikki flew up again. “Not to mention, you don’t have a gift for Chat as Ladybug anymore.”

  
  


Marinette groaned. “Yeah, that is kind of strange that he found that present first; I could have sworn I hid it better.” Marinette shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “But it’s okay. I can give him the present I was going to give as Marinette.”

  
  


She reached into her pocket, pulling out the string of multicolored beads, the largest being a bright pink black cat that was smack in the center.

  
  


A lucky charm. 

  
  


Marinette was so busy staring at it, trying to come up with a way to present it, that she didn’t notice how Tikki’s eyes widened slightly.

  
  


Tikki coughed. “I think that’s the  _ perfect _ present for the wielder of the Black Cat miraculous.”

  
  


Marinette tilted her head. “You don’t think it’s too on-the-nose?”

  
  


“I think it’s perfect! And, as far as he knows, this is from Ladybug. It’s a good present from someone who’s just a friend.”

  
  


Marinette snorted, recognizing the familiar words. “Speaking of, it really is lucky that Adrien is the only one who knows I have lucky charms like this. Hopefully Chat likes it.”

  
  


Now, Tikki was not a meddler, by any means; that had always been Plagg’s department. But if there was one thing she had learned in her long, infinite lifetime, it was that  _ sometimes  _ change was good.

  
  


Sometimes, it was miraculous.

  
  


And sometimes, you were so tired of watching two people run around each other for years that you did things that you normally wouldn’t.

  
  


Like meddling with gifts to speed up a reveal, for example.

  
  


“Something tells me he’s going to  _ love  _ this surprise.” Tikki said with a small smile on her lips.

  
  


Marinette pocketed the charm, turning toward the horizon. “Then there’s no time to lose.”

  
  


_ This was definitely going to be a night to remember _ , Tikki thought.

  
  


“Tikki, Spots on!”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas y’all!! Ignore the fact that it’s not Christmas anymore! I hope you guys enjoyed this fic. Writing this challenged me immensely, as I wanted to make this as fluffy as possible. I’ve never written fluff before, so this was such a happy breakaway from the usual. Please let me know what you thought, and I will see you guys soon! :)


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